


Ground Rules

by MommaUrsa



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommaUrsa/pseuds/MommaUrsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genderbent!Jason au.</p><p> Sex could be without emotion, but it required effort to keep the emotion – the attachment – away. She was more than willing to put forth the effort, which meant keeping things rough. No sweet talk, no gentle caresses. She couldn’t afford to allow that to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ground Rules

                Jase had his body pinned against the bed, her back arched enough that her ass was in the air and her stomach pressed against the young man. Her brows were furrowed, her plump lips pressed into a hard line as she stared down at a small bead of crimson forming on the younger man’s cheek. She let her thumb swipe across his cheek, wiping away the blood from the cut she had left.

                “If we’re going to do this, baby bat,” she began, her voice a low rasp. “I have a few ground rules.”

                Her eyes flicked up toward his blue ones, staring into his challenging gaze. Her lips twitched up into a cocky smirk. She was trying desperately to piss him off, to get him to fight back. He wanted to fuck her, and she was not about to let things go beyond that. Sex could be without emotion, but it required effort to keep the emotion – the attachment – away. She was more than willing to put forth the effort, which meant keeping things rough.

                No sweet talk, no gentle caresses. She couldn’t afford to allow that to happen.

                Damian exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with the force of his breath. “What, exactly, does that entail?”

                Jase ran her thumb along his shirt, smearing a dab of blood on it. She could feel his nipple through the fabric as the calloused pad dragged over it. She found herself snickering, the noise coming out just as deep as her raspy, lust-filled voice.

                She let her tongue dart across her lips, taking pride in the flare of interest that crossed the younger man’s features as his eyes watched her intently. She hummed, and then brought her hips down until she could feel his erection press against her through the thin fabric of her panties. She hummed her approval at his low groan before leaning forward, letting her lips graze his cheek. She came to a stop once they were pressed against his ear.

                “ _I’m_ on top,” she growled, her fingers moving to dig into his shoulder. Her lips twitched with satisfaction when she felt him wince. “You _don’t_ call me a harlot, and you stay angry at me. You continue to _hate_ me. Got it, brat?” She pulled back so she could return his glare. Her brow shot up and her head tilted slightly.

                “Tt,” he spat, hands finally moving to settle on her wide hips. “Understood.”

                Jase slowly leaned back as she began to roll her hips against Damian’s, grinding down on his clothed cock as she hummed again. “Good,” she gasped, eyes drifting shut. Her smirk returned to her face full force. “I thought you’d be bigger, considering who _fathered_ you.”

\---

                He knew the rules. He was supposed to hate her, but he wasn’t sure how to when she looked like _this_ in the afterglow. This – whatever it was – had begun to blossom months after that first night. After months of being ridden hard by the rough woman, of being told disgusting things that had him blushing and suppressing moans to keep them from being discovered. It was months of rage-fueled sex – dirty, sweaty, and downright _filthy_ – and then _this_ , whatever _this_ was.

                His expression softened as he stared down at her sleeping face. She was something else with her head against his chest, her hand resting beside her face, and her legs still tangled with his. Her hair was a mess. Black curls were pulled into a haphazard bun, but over the course of the night, strands had come free, falling over her face in a stringy mess of black and white strands. Her face was bruised to hell from patrol, but she looked at peace. She looked – and, quite frankly, she felt – perfectly relaxed in his arms.

                She looked beautiful.

                Damian’s brows furrowed as he scowled at her. He gently pushed some of the strands back until the damp hair stuck to the rest of the mess. He exhaled slowly, and then lifted his neck until he could press a gentle kiss to her temple. He pressed a hand to her cheek and let his thumb gently swipe across it. She didn’t move at all, didn’t even make a sound.

                She was completely unaware of his affections, and he intended for it to stay that way.

\---

                She hadn’t been feeling good for days now, but this illness – whatever it was – had been an on and off thing for months.

                Everything seemed to upset her stomach and she was actually feeling the strain of her night work. No amount of sleep was helping her exhausted body feel any better, and now her exhaustion was affecting her work. She had found herself fainting mid-swing a few nights prior, and if it wasn’t for the brat being the one chasing her (she would not admit to playing rooftop tag with the younger man) it would have ended poorly. The damn kid was worried, despite insisting that he was, in fact, not worried about her health; he just didn’t want her to die before he could haul her ass to Blackgate.

                Jase chalked it up to being her shitty lifestyle. She barely slept, she ate nothing but junk (though, that had changed a bit when she felt herself craving veggies more often), and her nightlife was hell on her body.

                It wasn’t until she noticed that her stomach had gotten bigger that she knew something was utterly wrong.

                She stared at herself in the mirror, teal eyes focusing on the slight bulge of her once flat stomach. She let her fingers graze over it, brows furrowing a bit as she looked back up at her body in the mirror. Shoving her shirt down, she slowly lifted her gaze until she was staring at the reflection of her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath, fingers skirting over the white stick resting on the counter. She tried to keep her eyes on the mirror.

                Her body was fucking _shaking_ , and when the timer went off, she couldn’t help but jump. Her stomach churned as she lifted the plastic stick. She had to take a deep to keep from gasping for air. She knew what the stick was going to say, but she wasn’t ready for the certainty. She didn’t know how she was going to deal with these consequences.

                She stared down at the reading before slowly lowering it to the bathroom counter. She lifted her shirt again to allow her fingers to graze the visible bump.

                She was going to be sick.

                She pressed her back against the bathroom wall before sliding down. Her legs stretched out in front of her as she let her hand rest against her stomach.

                She was careful. She was always safe to prevent _this_ , but her precautions had failed her. How the hell was _she_ supposed to raise a child? She spent her nights killing drug dealers and rapists—

                She had been patrolling with a baby.

                She was gasping for air. She pulled her knees to her chest and let her head hang between them. She was going to puke if she didn’t calm down, but all that was running through her mind were the different possibilities for this life in her. Every possible thing she could have done to already fuck up this baby’s life was filling her every thought. She could have hurt it, and it was still developing.

                She ran her hand through her curls, pushing the loose strands back. She couldn’t think about that. She wasn’t certain what the baby’s condition was, and she wouldn’t know until she was able to get to a clinic. She wouldn’t let herself dwell on those possibilities. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel guilty over something that may not even have happened.

                However, she couldn’t help but dwell on her ability to mother. Jase wasn’t mother material. All she knew about parenting was what not to do, thanks to everything Bruce and her own mother did to fail her. She wasn’t sure if she was capable of being the kind of mother a child deserved, not with all the blood on her hands or the anger in her heart.

                If she gave the baby up, she wasn’t sure if it would be adopted or if it would fall through the cracks in the child care system. She knew how unforgiving the system could be if she wasn’t careful. It would require a lot of effort to give the baby up, but if it meant a better quality life for it, she wanted that. She didn’t want to be responsible for a child growing up feeling unwanted and unloved, which left another option.

                However, as crazy as it sounded, the thought of motherhood was almost enticing. She thought of the people who were reformed by the children that came into their lives, biological or not. She thought about giving this child everything she didn’t have when she was younger; she thought about giving it everything it wanted and then some. She thought about how selfish she felt for entertaining the thought of keeping the child.

                She took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. She needed to look at her options more closely before making a decision. For now, she would accept that she needed comfort before thinking too far ahead.

                                                                                                      ---

                The box had caught his eye as he passed the bathroom. It appeared so out of place in the woman's usual mess. The stark white contrasted the vast amount of black, gray, and red coating her apartment. The bright violet letters didn't fit in with the dark midnight purples that the woman enjoyed. An untrained eye would have easily overlooked it, and he thought about ignoring the item, but the box was the last thing he ever expected to see in Jase’s apartment.

                After a long few minutes, he was finally able to pry his eyes away when he heard his phone ring. He wrapped one arm around the two paper bags of takeout he had brought for Jase, freeing up his other so he could fish the phone out of his jean pocket. He stared down at the caller ID in silence.

_Jase_

                Damian took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly as he stared down at the photo that accompanied her name. She was smirking, but her hair was a mess, and she was in one of Damian’s shirts. She had a black eye and a bandage on one cheek, but the photo was everything he (he still couldn’t put his finger on the right word for his strong attachment) enjoyed about her. It showed how strong she was, as well as how much of an asshole she could be.

                He flipped the phone open as he dragged his eyes up to the closed, bedroom door.

                “Jase,” Damian breathed. He watched the door slowly open until Jase was in full view in the doorway. She was silent for a moment, her gun held tightly in front of her chest. She eyed Damian, and then closed the door.

                “You could knock, brat,” the voice behind the door was muffled, but the low tone was crystal clear through the phone. There was another long silence. “You saw.”

                Damian swallowed. “I did,” he replied, and then took a few steps until he was able to put his forehead against the door. He let his hand rest on the doorknob, but made no attempts to open the door. He knew better than to barge in when she wasn’t ready to see him.

                There was a long silence. Damian could just picture her worrying her lip as she fought to find the words. Her brow would be furrowed, and she’d look beyond pissed. If the circumstances weren’t what they were, he imagined she’d have a cigarette dangling from her lips, probably the last one from the pack.

                Finally, she was able to speak up.

                He could hear the bed creak beneath her weight in the background. “I’m pregnant,” she finally growled.

                There was a click as she hung up. Damian slowly pocketed his phone, and then pushed the door open. Jase was already on the bed, body slumped and her head hanging low. The gun had been tossed onto the mattress, lying forgotten as she sat still.

                He peered at Jase for a moment, checking to make sure his presence was allowed before stepping forward. He cautiously made his way toward her, eyes focused on any movement she might make. He wouldn’t risk receiving a black eye simply because he didn’t pay her any attention.

                He took a seat next to the vigilante, and then wrapped his free arm around her, awkwardly pulling her against his side. Jase exhaled slowly, and then buried her face in the teen's neck. She shifted so her legs were resting on the bed, allowing her weight to lean against Damian's sturdy form.

                “When did you get so damn big?” Jase's voice was muffled by his neck. “I told you to stay small.”

                “Tt. Because I would definitely listen to you,” Damian snorted with a roll of his eyes. He let his chin sit on top of her head.

                Jase rolled her eyes. “I hate that goddamn noise,” she grumbled, and then reached into one of the bags to pull out a fry. She turned her head so she could nibble on it absent mindedly as silence fell over them once more.

                She munched silently, picking out fries with slow movements. For once, she let him support her without a single snide remark. She could stand on her own, but right now she wanted to let herself be comforted. She turned her head, letting her face press against his neck. “You’re such an asshole,” she huffed.

                Damian snorted. “What did I do this time?” He stared down at the woman, brow rising at the end of his question.

                “We’d be terrible parents,” Jase grumbled in response, brows furrowing. She pursed her lips as she dropped her hand to her stomach.

                Damian shifted beside her, head turning so his eyes were locked on the ceiling. Another silence fell over them. She knew he was choosing his words, articulating exactly what to say. She rolled her eyes and shoved him away before flopping onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling, ignoring his gaze and the possibility of a frown tugging down at his lips.

                “You don’t know that,” Damian finally murmured, voice uncharacteristically soft. He leaned forward, forearms pressing against his thighs. “Have you thought over your options?” His voice cracked.

                Jase sat up, eyes locking onto his form. She had never heard that tone of voice come from him. She swallowed. “Yeah, kid,” she murmured. “You- Damian, you can’t actually think we’d be good enough to raise it. Our situation now-“

                “Can be changed, if you decide that’s what you want,” Damian cut her off as he met her gaze. “We have the funds to give this a try with at least financial security. It would only be up to us.”

                Damian knew that was the scary part.


End file.
